To Walk the Earth
by PrincessKaren
Summary: Alena Lovvale is a human that is afraid. Afraid of humans and of the outside world. How can she, a terrified village girl become a legendary Dragon Rider? On the other hand, Eragon is a fighter—fierce and brave. Now, they must share the same fate.
1. The Village

Chapter 1

Alena jumped over the little puddles of water, watching with a sense of boredom as the water rippled, changing her appearance. As the water returned to normal, her appearance reappeared in the surface. She looked up at the other girls, all jumping rope or gathered in small groups, squealing at the boys who kicked water at them. After a while, she clapped her hands loudly. The children then looked up at her reproachfully before scrambling towards her. She counted 20 children and horded them into the small building.

"Now children," she said, looking around at the eager faces. She couldn't help but smile. "Reading time."

The children whooped happily and rushed to the little baskets labeled with their names, pulling out blankets and toys. Once the children settled comfortably, she took out an ancient, leather-bound book.

"This story is about dragons," she said in a mesmerizing whisper, eyeing the children.

She looked around, just to make sure that the children were settled in comfortably. She told the story, her eyes sparkling as she wove an epic tale of brave and noble Riders and their dragons.

"Once, there was a Dragon Rider named Brom. He had a beautiful sapphire blue dragon named Saphira, the name of the great Shadeslayer's dragon. Rumor has it, that he named it after Brom's amazing dragon…." Her story went on until the children all fell asleep.

She closed the heavy book and set it back on the rickety shelf, among the other books. She looked at the children, sleeping so peacefully on the floor. She looked up and peeked out of the window, the bright sunlight blinding her for a short moment. As her vision returned, she found herself staring outside—an everyday sight. Villagers rambled on with their business, chattering noisily and walking hurriedly. She watched wistfully—how she wished she could stride out proudly and walk among the others. But she couldn't. She was absolutely terrified.

Terrified of the outside. Terrified of people.

Eragon sat perched on a black stone overlooking the sea. His dragon, Saphira was next to him, watching the sunset with a bored expression.

"Isn't beautiful?" he asked to no one in particular.

Saphira nodded her big blue head solemnly, her eyes following Eragon as he pushed himself off the ground.

"You know, Saphira, I've been hoping to go hunting in the Spine," declared Eragon.

_The Spine?_

_Yes. It's been a while._

_What happened to your rabbit food diet?_ asked Saphira with a satisfied smirk.

_We've nothing to do, and we're close to the Spine_.

_All right. I shall enjoy the flight. It has been a while since you rode me._

_Battles?_ suggested Eragon with a laugh.

_No. Freely. Free, where we can glide through clouds, masters of the sky. Free, where none can bother our peaceful flight._

_Poetic_, he commented, leaping onto her back. _Let's go_.

_Yes. Let us go_, said Saphira, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Eragon grinned as Saphira sprang into the air, fighting gravity for a brief moment before shooting into the air. Saphira bugled her joy into the air, startling the camps below them. She went into a shallow dive, pulling up moments before hitting the ground. He whooped as the wind rushed past his face, ruffling his hair. Saphira twirled round and round, spinning dangerously close to the earth and then high into the air. They broke through clouds, shivering as the frigid water melted onto Eragon's skin, spinning wildly around astounded watchers. She then went straight into the air, her wings flapping with a smooth, rhythmic beat. They went far past the clouds, where Saphira hovered and looked back at Eragon.

_Ready?_

_Ready_, he replied enthusiastically, grabbing on even more tightly.

With a magnificent roar, Saphira dove straight down, gaining speed. He cried out wildly as he was almost blown off the saddle. About 3 feet before they could hit the ground, Saphira pulled her wings out, catching them in the air. For a short moment, they hovered, fighting to keep off the hard earth. She then shot about 10 feet into the air, performing a series of twirls and flips. With a final spin, Saphira rose above the marveling crowd with a smug look. Eragon waved enthusiastically before Saphira began to fly in a more calm way into the Spine. People cheered behind them, marveling at Saphira's glittering scales and amazing maneuvers.

_I think they enjoyed that_, said Eragon with a satisfied nod.

Yes. I think they did, she replied, pride coloring her voice.

Eragon looked around from Saphira's back, his eyes traveling the peaceful countryside. Not too far away, he could locate the Spine, the familiar purple-blue lumps in the distance he remembered so well. As they neared the Spine, Eragon cried out with surprise. Ranks of soldiers, dressed in blood red marched out of the Spine, firing arrows. Saphira went high into the clouds, clearly startled.

_So much for hunting,_ thought Eragon bitterly. _So much for "peace"._

_Come, little one. We must handle them._

_But there were thousands of men!_ he cried out.

_All of which we can handle. Roran killed 100 men with a hammer. I'm sure that a Dragon and her Rider can destroy 2000 men easily._

_But 2000 men…?_

_You forget that we are masters of the sky!_ shouted Saphira, dropping into a shallow dive.

Alena stared wistfully out of the small crack in that window in sullen silence, wishing.

_Perhaps tomorrow, you will be brave enough to go outside,_ she thought. _Perhaps tomorrow, you will be brave enough to say hello to others._

With an exasperated sigh, she shut the little crack of light and moved further into the room, retreating into the shadows. The only sounds in the room were those of the children's quiet, peaceful breathing. She looked down with pride at the sleeping children—so carefree, so innocent.

She sat down, watching the children with a sense of love and the urge to protect these children. She was drifting into a drowsy nap when suddenly, the door banged open. She jumped out in fright, looking around at the children to make sure none of them had woken.

"W-who are you?" she demanded, her voice strained.

"A blue dragon appears from the horizon," said the voice. "Eragon Shadeslayer and his dragon Saphira Brightscales have decided to honor us with their presence. And they are being chased. By an army of 2000 men. Wake the children. Go into hiding."

Her mind flickered to the small safe quarters the village had set up for cases like this. It would be cramped and uncomfortable, smashed between… people. She recalled the last time the village had retreated into the hiding place. She had been 3 years old, dragged underground by her parents. Her memory faltered, and a cold sweat broke out on her.

"Wake up, everybody!" she called, clapping.

Her wavering voice made the sleeping children stir. They got up, rubbing their eyes and looking around with confusion.

"Children! We must go into hiding until it is safe!" she cried in a shrill voice.

The children got up, confused. They all got up, grabbing their blankets and toys. In three minutes, the 20 children that she took care of during church time were lined up in front of her, still not understanding completely that they were in danger.

Alena looked down as she felt a tug at her dress.

"Where are we going?" asked a three-year-old girl, clutching her pink blanket.

"Somewhere safe," she whispered, leading her out.

The girl looked up at her, clearly frightened and confused before following her friends out the door. Once outside, Alena looked around, trying to see the blue dragon and the soldiers. She gasped as she saw that the army and the dragon were arriving rapidly. She screamed for the children to rush into the shelter. They rushed underground, many of them crying. Moments before the door was finally closed, she caught glimpse of an icy blue eye staring at the closing door. Beside it was a magnificent dragon, roaring and shooting fire at the terrified soldiers. Reluctant to close the door completely, she lingered for a short moment, only to be dragged down by the village residents.

_What a beautiful sight…_

_

* * *

_OK! You probably noticed that the name: Alena is the same :P Anyways, here's Chapter 1!


	2. The New Egg

Chapter 2

After hours of waiting in the cramped shelter, the villagers all heard a gentle tap on the wood.

"It's safe to come out now," declared a male voice.

They trembled in the dark, afraid for their lives. As they waited, a pair of claws ripped through the wooden doors that barricaded them from the danger outside. The children began to cry uncontrollably, while women and men alike shrieked. The light flooded the room, blinding them for a brief moment.

"It's me, Eragon," said a man with light brown, wavy hair and warm brown eyes, suddenly appearing.

Alena was the first to climb out. Shielding her eyes from the sun with a hand, she stepped out into the light and took a deep breath. She was shoved aside by the village master and the children. The village master rushed up to Eragon, flustered while the children scrambled to Saphira, hanging off her spikes and saddle. Saphira snapped her jaws playfully, receiving a warning glance from Eragon and the children's parents.

Alena stood on the side, isolated from the people who were panicking at the sight of blood and gore, crying out with joy as Saphira flew around in small circles, all crowding up to Eragon. She wondered whose eye she had seen, that icy blue eye. She had observed that Eragon's eye was a soft brown, definitely not the cold blue eye she had seen earlier.

"Perhaps it was just an illusion," she muttered to herself.

She looked around frightfully. Here she was, in the outside world, surrounded by the people of her village. The face she had seen was nowhere in sight—the piercing blue gaze in particular. From the far distance she normally observed the villagers, it was impossible to determine their eye color. But she was sure that none of them was outside—they had been all squished under the shelter until Eragon and Saphira had declared it was safe enough to come out again. They had arrived at a scene of blood and dead soldiers, with Eragon panting, his blue sword Brisingr drawn and Saphira licking at her nails with satisfaction. There were no signs of any village people—or anyone alive, for that matter. She glanced around the villagers that had horded up against Eragon, wondering who would have such eyes.

Eragon faced the crowd, smiling broadly, his sword, Brisingr, sheathed. People had gathered around him and Saphira, all gaping.

"I take it that you haven't had much misfortune at this town, seeing how you are panicked by blood," he noted.

"Yes," began the village master. "This is… our first direct attack."

"I'm sorry to bring such misfortune upon your village," he apologized. "This was the nearest village, and we wanted the soldiers to be too tired to fight."

"A fine tactic," marveled the village master. "And there is no reason for a Rider as noble as you to apologize to us. We should thank you, for saving our village."

_This man is just dripping with humbleness! And it's all fake!_ exclaimed Eragon to Saphira in astonishment.

_Yes_, replied Saphira, snorting.

_And who is that girl? She seems so isolated? And deep in thought._

_Eragon, pay attention to the conversation!_

_All right, all right._

Eragon returned his focus to the village master, who had been babbling on about his gratitude and thanks to Eragon. He nodded, and smiled. He looked around warily, making sure there was no damage to the village. As he began to climb onto Saphira, a bright, green light appeared in a flash, and a young man clutching a brown package fell to the floor, writhing. He squirmed desperately, and fell limp, dead.

Eragon leaped off, startled. He neared the man, and reached out with his consciousness.

"Dead," he declared.

The villagers gasped and turned their heads, not wanting to see any more dead men.

Saphira… do you think…?

Look at his ears, she said, shivering with excitement and horror.

Gently, Eragon lifted the rust-colored hair covering his ears. They were pointed. Chills ran up Eragon's spine.

"No…" he whispered. "It… it can't be…"

_It is_, said Saphira stiffly.

Eragon slowly took the brown package in the elf's arms. He then placed it on Saphira's saddle and slowly peeled the rough brown material from the package. He gasped and pulled the object into his arms.

"The mission. It succeeded," he said slowly, awe-struck.

The stood up and raised the package high over his head.

"A fourth egg!" he declared majestically.

A gasp rippled throughout the crowd, along with murmurs of disbelief and amazement. Alena looked up, surprised.

"A new dragon egg?" she whispered frightfully. "There's another one?"

"An egg was discovered. So that rumors did not spread, three elves were sent to retrieve it. Two elves were killed, and the third made it here without dying. Although he has passed into the void, his great deed will bring us much good fortune. Because Saphira and I will have to travel to towns to find the egg's owner, we will start here. All must line up, and touch the egg," said Eragon, his voice loud.

Gasps of excitement ran through the crowd. Only Alena remained still and unexcited. Eragon, observing this frowned slightly. The news of a fourth egg was more than enough to excite somebody.

_She's so… different._

_Is there anything wrong with that?_

_No… it's just… she seems so afraid of everything._

_Then ask._

_I just told you, she seems afraid_, he said impatiently. _Asking would only frighten her more._

_Wise observation, remarked Saphira._

_Then what do you want me to do?_

_Observe._

Eragon sighed and looked away. It would not be wise to argue with Saphira. She always won with her sharp, witty replies and infinite wisdom. Turning to the crowd again with his public smile, he carried the egg to Saphira's back. He set it down and shouted instructions to the villagers. They all lined up, murmuring excitedly at the rare chance of touching a dragon egg. When Alena did not line up, Eragon sneaked to her side, trusting Saphira to guard the egg.

"Hello," he began, an awkward silence developing them.

She jumped almost three feet into the air, and waved.

"H-hello," she said, turning a deep red.

"May I ask, why do you stand so isolated from your villagers?" he asked with a charming smile. "If I caused any offense or discomfort, I am terribly sorry."

"I… I am afraid," she whispered, not daring to look up.

"Afraid? Afraid of what?" he asked as kindly as possible.

There was a long pause. "The world. And… people."

"People, you say?" he asked, curious.

"Yes. They frighten me. The world, the world frightens me. Is it not people that cause us to hurt? Is it not people, that causes misfortune and misery?"

"Why do you think so?"

"My mother was shunned. She was not only shunned—despised by the people of this cursed town. As she gave birth to her first child, the village people killed them—brutally, leaving only chunks of flesh and echoing cries. After the horrors had passed, my mother dared not step out of her cozy home. When she was pregnant with her second child, she was terrified. Rumors spread of her new baby, and the villagers set off to kill it. After it too, had been savagely ripped to shreds, she was once again restricted to her home once more. When she was pregnant with her third child—me—she was determined to make sure I was kept alive. She gave birth without the help of any others. After I was born, she was careful to hide me. I grew in my home, inside until I was 5 years old. Oh, how pale I was. My skin was chalk white—I had not seen the sun for 5 years. When I became old enough, my mother instructed me to arrive at the town as if I were an orphan, so that I could go outside. So one night, I snuck out the back door at night. When morning came, I was amazed by the Sun, who beautiful it was, shining in the sky. I stumbled into the town, acting as if I were a poor orphan in need of a home. When I arrived in the town, the village people looked upon me with scorn and distaste. I was forced to live with my mother, which I was glad for, but the people despised me. I was hated. When my mother died, killed by the villagers after a mistake, I was 15. She passed away only a year ago. I was forced to take care of the village children, which I have been doing for the past year for a meager supply of food, water and coins," she explained, her voice barely a whisper by the end of the story.

Eragon gasped at the brutality of the villagers, watching her as she cried pitifully at her hateful story. By the time she was done, her face was wet with tears, her solemn expression now a mixture of terror and misery. She had been treated to cruelly and unfairly, so brutally abused by the wretched townspeople. He glared at the townspeople with newfound hatred. How could they contain such evil in their hearts? Was it possible to loathe an innocent child—treat her so terribly she hates the world? And what of the child's mother? Why did they detest this lady so much? How cruel and unjust were they, to kill a newborn baby—to destroy precious life? Anger boiled in his veins, making him tremble with uncontrollable rage.

"WHY?!" he exploded, gasping to restrict foolish actions.

"I do not know," she said bluntly. "But I've learned to accept it. I spent 80 of my life indoors. That is where I belong. Please do not be angry, Shadeslayer. There are many life stories. I am just less fortunate."

"No!" he cried, muttering foul words under his breath. "No living being deserves such treatment! Why do you not rebel?"

"I am powerless," she replied simply, her eyes glazed. "Just as my mother was. She despised the townspeople as much as I did. But she could not leave—she was… bound to this town."

Eragon swore again and stomped angrily. He turned and glared at the townspeople, so absorbed in touching the egg they were not aware of Eragon's boiling anger and outburst. He growled in anger, blocking out Saphira with his entire mind. He heard protesting, but ignored it all together; forcing himself to focus on the matter he had on his hands.

Forcing his anger down, he offered a smile and said, "Your turn."

By then, the extensive line had been emptied, and people sat sullenly on the sides, their faces drooping. They had hoped that they would become Dragon Riders—oh, what an honor would that be! They watched Alena with a wary, hateful eye as she slowly approached the white dragon egg on Saphira's saddle. She stepped to it hesitantly—if she was indeed the next Dragon Rider, it meant she would decide the fate of the world. After being shunned and hated for so long, it was understandable she was hesitant to lay a single finger on the small object that would become Alagaësia's hope. She halted in front of Saphira, where Saphira eyed her fondly, and took a deep breath. Slowly—oh, ever so slowly!—she put a finger on the egg, and then her whole hand. Warmth emanated from the white egg.

She was so absorbed in the wonders of the white egg to notice that the egg was rocking. Not just rocking, shaking violently. The villagers all stood up in awe, stunned by the reaction. Alena kept her arm on the egg, amazed. A single crack appeared on the smooth surface, expanding until a series of cracks webbed across its surface. Eragon gasped as he arrived at the scene. Saphira shifted, startled, almost dropping the egg. At last, the egg exploded, revealing a small dragon. Alena gasped audibly as she saw a flash of icy blue in the Dragon's eyes. It turned into the color of a beautiful sapphire after it flashed. The flash had been the cold color she saw!

Eragon stepped forward and looked at the Dragon. Its eyes glittered like two sapphire jewels.

"Go ahead, touch it," he whispered, memories flooding into him.

With trembling hands, she slowly let the Dragon put its small head under her fingers. A jolt of pain rushed through her arm, and she cried out. When she opened her palm, there was a silvery mark on her hand.

"Welcome, Alena, new Dragon Rider," said Eragon with a smile. "What will you name this noble creature?"

Alena stood still for a moment, and whispered "Skyla."

"Beautiful name," commented Eragon. "Any reason?"

"My mother's name was Skyla," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

Immediately, the villagers began to cry out in disappointment and new hatred for the girl.

"You lucky bastard!" yelled one man.

"My beautiful Gareth is destined to be a rider!" shrieked a mother, pointing frantically to a 13 year old boy with sandy hair and freckles.

"What of my beautiful daughter?!" screamed another.

"She is a woman! A despicable, pitiful creature!" yelled the village master.

"SILENCE!" roared Eragon, his furious voice accompanied by Saphira's angry roar. "HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU SHUN A RIDER! HOW DARE YOU BE SO CRUEL? YOUR HEARTS ARE NO MORE THAN THE HEARTS OF CHICKENS AND ROOSTERS! AS SMALL AS YOUR HEARTS MAY BE, THEY ARE BLACK WITH EVIL! YOU MAY NOT JUDGE RIDER ALENA! I HAVE HEARD THE FULL STORY!"

The villagers quieted at once, looking up in fear and astonishment at the angry Eragon. Saphira roared with Eragon, looking at the villagers with a powerful rage.

"Shadeslayer," cried the village master, scrambling up to him. "You have no reason to be angry at us! What wrong have we done you? We have treated you with honor and respect, and your Dragon. Why are you so furious?"

"Your black hearts cannot understand such complicated matters!" he yelled. "The cruelness in which you have shown Alena is unforgivable! And do not say that you do not know!"

"Shadeslayer, the despicable creature's mother was Selena, servant of the wretched Morzan!"

"MY MOTHER IS SELENA!" screamed Eragon in horror. "How dare you treat a woman as noble as her so cruelly?!"

"Shadeslayer! We were not aware that your mother was Selena!" cried the villagers desperately.

"No matter! You treated her foully!" he boomed. "I hope that Galbatorix's armies attack you for the rest of your miserable lives, and you live without any limbs or body parts! You shall die, rotting in cells and may all ill luck fall upon you!"

"Eragon, please, stop!" cried Alena, rushing to his side, the Dragon waddling next to her. "These people may be evil and heartless, but they are normal people. Please, let them be. I wish to leave here at once."

_Alena speaks wisdom_, said Saphira. _I apologize, Alena. I let my rage overtake my sensibility and wisdom._

_It is easy to be overcome with rage or grief. I can understand. Only a year ago, I was driven to madness after the death of my mother_, she replied.

"Then let us leave," he spat.

Eragon jumped onto Saphira, helped her on and helped Alena get on, along with her Dragon Skyla.

"I'm sorry," said Eragon after they had departed.

"No harm done. I am just glad to leave the town," she replied contentedly.

"You are tired. Rest. Saphira and I will see to it that you or your Dragon does not fall off," said Eragon gently.

"Thank you, Shadeslayer."

"No reason to thank me. The Varden would be angered terribly if I let you fall from such a high altitude."

_No, thank you, for taking me away from the town._

Saphira's contented humming and the gentle vibrations that echoed from her chest slowly drifted her off to sleep. She slept thinking of the life of misery and fear she had left behind, and into the new one of more fear and adventure_. Better than home… _she thought.

Thanks to those who took their precious time to review my fanfic!

dancinqween09: Yes, I just noticed that the lines did not show up. I'm positive I separated them, but I guess there was an error. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

spazzysassyangel: Thank you for your review! I will try to make it less confusing. Beginnings are always hard!

c.a.s.1404: Thank you very much(:


	3. Amateur

Chapter 3

The rhythmic beat of Saphira's smooth, undisturbed flying greeted Alena as she awoke. Still groggy, she looked down, and saw her dragon, Skyla looking up at her with intelligent eyes. Eragon was asleep, hunched over the saddle. He looked so peaceful—so unlike the savage beast that had cried out at the village.

"Intelligent, isn't it?" asked Eragon, waking from his sleep.

"Huh?" she said, caught off-guard.

"Your dragon. It seems to be all-knowing, doesn't it?" he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

There was a short pause as she thought.

"Yes. They're so intelligent and… pure-looking. Surely, Dragons carry great burdens."

_We do not carry burdens. Dragons prefer to call them gifts than burdens,_ commented Saphira.

"I see," she replied. "Saphira, if it does not bother you, you do not have to answer, but how does it feel to be the only female dragon in existence?"

There was only silence.

"You don't have to," she added quickly.

_It gives me a reason to live. It does not burden me, but gives me purpose to fight. If I do, my race will go extinct. It drives me to fight more fiercely than ever—strive to exist, to walk the earth._

_Why didn't you tell me this before?_ asked Eragon, a hint of surprise and anger in his voice.

_No need to_, she said simply.

Alena's eyes sparkled she listened. She looked down and pat her Dragon's head.

"Wait, what's the gender of my Dragon?" she asked.

_We wouldn't know_, said Saphira. _And it would be more than rude, even for another Dragon to protrude into its mind._

"Only the Dragon's Rider may enter the Dragon's mind, unless it gives permission," stated Eragon. "This holds true for all creatures. Do not pry into other's minds. Unless it is necessary—or the enemy—it is forbidden to expand your mind into others."

"How do you do that?" she asked innocently.

"That's right! First, close your eyes. Expand your mind, make it as big and compact as you can. Can you feel small specks of warmth? Of life?"

"Not in the air. Wait! I think I see some birds!"

Eragon smiled.

"Good. Now, focus on getting your mind down to Skyla," said Eragon.

She felt her mind brush against a foreign mind. It was only slightly different from Saphira—duller, but generally the same.

"It's a girl," declared Alena.

"Are you sure?" he asked sharply, turning his eyes on her. "Are you positive?"

"Yes."

Eragon took Skyla, receiving a sharp snap from her small, powerful jaws.

"May I?"

"Of course," answered Alena.

Eragon turned the Dragon around in his fingers, running his fingers on the smooth scales.

_You know that won't do you any good_, said Saphira, snorting_. I still remember when you did that to me. I was very angry._

_I didn't know any better_, replied Eragon with a chuckle.

The Dragon that Eragon held in his arms squealed with displeasure, squirming.

_So why are you making the Dragon feel displeasure?_

_Memories._

Saphira quieted and resumed her silent flight. Eragon returned Skyla to Alena, who immediately cuddled into her lap for a nap.

"How far are we from our destination?" she questioned after a long silence.

_Little less than an hour,_ replied Saphira.

Eragon seemed to be deep in thought, his eyebrows pulled down in a frown, murmuring something.

_What troubles you, little one?_

_The story… it doesn't fit._

_What story?_

_Alena's story._

"Alena," began Eragon, shaking off his frown. "You said you named your dragon after your mother, Skyla, right?"

"Yes."

"Then why do the villagers say she is named S-Selena?" he asked, stammering at his mother's name.

"I knew my mother as Skyla," she replied, frowning. "Skyla."

"So you have no idea why they called your mother Selena?"

"None."

"OK… If the villagers were talking about… the woman I think, they said she died a year ago?"

"No. She disappeared. She left a slipper at the edge of a cliff, so we assumed that she died," she replied, suddenly very sad.

Eragon shook his head clear of thoughts.

_It can't be my mother_, he said. _She died, didn't she?_

_Perhaps she disguised herself_, suggested Saphira. _But do not get your hopes up too much, little one._

_I know_, he replied shortly.

"OK," said Eragon, concluding their conversation.

Alena nodded and forced a smile. They rode in silence again, until Saphira announced that they were at the Varden.

As they landed, a lady with dark brown skin appeared from a plum-colored tent.

"Lady Nasuada," said Eragon, bowing.

"Eragon! You are a week late," she snapped, ignoring Alena.

"I offer my sincerest apologies, Lady Nasuada," said Eragon, his voice still pleasant.

"And who is this… this GIRL you bring?" she cried, gesturing wildly to Alena, who flinched at the woman's rage.

"Look at her hands, Lady Nasuada."

Nasuada glared at Eragon, and then at Alena's hands. Alena was holding the white dragon.

"What is this?!" she shrieked. "A Dragon?"

"The egg that Putine attempted to retrieve. He is… dead," he said with difficulty.

"Oh, Putine was a loyal, strong elf. What of his body?" she asked, calming down. "It saddens me greatly to know of his death."

"His body is tied to the bottom of Saphira's belly. We hope to give him a proper burial in the presence of Queen Islanzadí, so that she may honor his bravery and success in the difficult mission," he said, walking over to Saphira.

Nasuada looked at Alena, examining her from head to feet.

"She does not seem… fit," said Nasuada with a slight frown. "Your name?"

"Alena Lovvale, Lady Nasuada," she said, her eyes wide with fright.

"Well, Alena. I hope I did not offend you. You will train while waiting for your Dragon to grow," said Nasuada, pointing at the Dragon. "What have you named this magnificent creature?"

"Skyla, Lady Nasuada. After my mother," she said quietly, looking at it.

"And a fine name Skyla shall be," she said with a chuckle. "I will have the people set up a tent for you. For the time being, you shall live in Arya's tent."

"Thank you, Lady Nasuada."

Eragon perked up at the mention of Arya.

"Have you her permission?" he asked, his voice shriller than normal.

"Yes. I just contacted her. She would be glad to give her basic training of agility and strength."

"May I ask, who is Arya?" she asked timidly.

"An elf. A fair elf, the ambassador of the elven race, who transported Saphira's egg into my hands," broke in Eragon. "You are fortunate to be able to train under her. Not many get the chance to meet an elf."

"Elves are real?" asked Alena, surprised. "I only heard of them in olden stories. Never did I imagine that they could be real!"

"Oh, they're real. And more powerful than any other being," he said with a slight chuckle. "I too, was surprised when I heard of their existence."

"Well, Eragon, will you escort Rider Alena and her Dragon Skyla to Arya's tent?"

"Of course, m'lady," he said with a flourish and a charming smile.

Alena was led away by Eragon, Skyla waddling beside her. She had to hide Skyla as they neared the tents. Once inside Arya's perfumed tent, Alena uncovered Skyla, who had been squirming inside the cloth that had covered her.

"Why was I to cover her?" asked Alena, petting Skyla.

"Although rare, there may be imposters among the vast members of the Varden that slipped past the security guards and the mental test. Not to mention that rumors of a new Dragon would spread like a wildfire. We do not want Galbatorix to find out there is another Dragon that is not under his control. It would put you in much danger. Until Skyla grows up, you will be under extreme restrictions," explained Eragon, peeking out of the tent and motioning at the hundreds of tents just around Arya's.

"I see," she said with a relieved sigh. "It would frighten me greatly to be outside."

Eragon turned to her and frowned, shaking his head with disapproval.

"I will give you freedom. However, you must go outside. Dragon Riders are mighty warriors, not cowering weaklings. They are proud and brave. They step into the outside world with courage and hope, not in fear and mystery," he said firmly.

She whimpered, but nodded.

"You must accept your fate," he said, his voice softening. "I apologize for frightening you."

"It's OK," she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

"You should rest," suggested Eragon. "No, You WILL rest," he said, making it into a command. "We have much to talk about."

Alena curled up into a ball and hid herself beneath the warm blankets, trembling—whether from the outside cold or fear, she knew not. Tears slid down her tears as she thought of the children that had made her smile with pride and true happiness, and then of heartless Eragon, who had torn her away from the beautiful children and forced her to walk the outside as if it were nothing to think about.

_I hate you Eragon_, she cursed bitterly in her mind.

She felt a comforting touch to her mind from her Dragon, Skyla who silently warmed her thoughts. She soon fell asleep, dreaming of the day when she and Skyla would soar through the skies, bonded partners for life.

Not one of my best, I have to say.

Well, please R/R~ So many ideas for the Inheritance Cycle, so little time -_-;;

I might do just ONE MORE. Or, I might incorporate the idea into this or some other story(:


	4. Arya

Chapter 4

Alena woke up with a stiff back from sleeping so carelessly on the cold floor. Rubbing her eyes, she groaned as she stretched. As her full vision came around, she found a woman of extreme beauty with black hair and startling green, slanted eyes. Her skin was light-honey colored. She watched in awe as the elf slept peacefully on a bed. She slowly got up, careful not to make any noise.

"No need," suddenly said Arya, her eyes snapping open.

She flinched as her sharp gaze wandered over her body. Arya stood up, smoothing out the wrinkles of her shirt and leggings. Alena silently noted how she wore men's clothing, even for slumber.

"I am Arya. You are the Dragon Rider," she said, motioning to Skyla.

It was not a question—it was a statement.

"I am," she said, her voice thin and shaky.

"There is no need to be afraid. I will not harm you. From what I have heard, you are afraid?" she prompted, brushing her hair back.

"Yes," she said quietly, dipping her had in shame.

"There is no need to be ashamed," said Arya, a distant gaze entering her eyes. "Everyone is afraid."

"But my fear is unnatural, Arya," she whined.

"No fear is unnatural," she said calmly.

"Being afraid of the outside?" she asked, her voice unsure.

"Fear comes in all forms. Some are afraid of water—" a small ball of water appeared in her fingers. "—others are afraid of nature, just like you."

"Then those that are afraid of water have unnatural fear as well," she concluded.

"No," she replied. "Fear is natural, whether you are afraid of water or monsters."

She smiled.

"Thank you," she said, nodding. "Your words are most… inspirational."

"I am glad. Now, let us visit Nasuada and Eragon. I am sure they will wish to know how your night went."

She nodded, and began to follow Arya. She wove between the tents, moving with inhuman grace and agility.

_Is she human?_ she suddenly thought, alarm striking her. She can't be… No human can move with such grace. Can they?

They passed through a village of tents, where all the people seemed to look like humble, kind people. In fact, the tents looked almost familiar to her as she passed through them. A man held his child while the woman did the laundry, a young couple sitting by the entrance of a tent, a small group of children drawing in the dirt; they all seemed to be kind people. thoughts were mangled as they arrived at a tent larger than most others. Nasuada's, she assumed. Guards surrounded the entire tent, in shining armor. She cringed as they lowered their weapons to face the visitors.

"I am Arya," said Arya calmly.

"Lady Nasuada! Arya and a girl wishes to speak to you!" called the guards.

"Let them in," replied Nasuada.

"Yes, m'lady," said the guard, bowing.

He nodded curtly to them, and they entered the tent unscathed. By the time they were in the tent, Alena was trembling so severely Eragon was alarmed as he saw her.

"My fears," she whispered when he asked.

"I see," he replied somewhat stiffly.

He opened his mouth, and shut it, seeing that it was the inappropriate time to say anything.

"Anyways," he said, keeping his eyes focused on Alena. "Training will begin immediately for Alena, while her Dragon grows."

"While the Dragon is young and cannot protect itself from creatures bigger than it self yet, we will have to guard it. The difficult part is, that nobody can know about it," said Nasuada.

"Why not?"

"Galbatorix, Shruikan, Murtagh and Thorn will come to destroy her, or make one of the other Dragons mate with her. You said it was a girl, right? Well, it's one of the two only female Dragons in existence. If Skyla and one of the other Dragons mate, Galbatorix will have a whole group of Dragon Riders. Eragon cannot fight all of them," explained Nasuada. "The Varden is weak enough already. We are only surviving because of Eragon. They cannot kill Saphira, for they think that she is the only female Dragon alive. In a way, Saphira protects us in a way that does not use claw or fang."

"So… I have to stay hidden?" she asked, sounding hopeful.

"No," broke in Eragon. "You will train, as said before, while Skyla grows. Saphira will provide her protection. You will be learning swordsmanship, archery and magic. All are important for your survival."

"Outside?" she asked weakly, feeling faint.

"Outside," he confirmed.

"But…"

"No buts," he said gently. "Riders must train. In the outside world."

Nasuada eyed her strangely, and dismissed them. As Eragon, Arya and Alena headed back into the tent, Eragon asked to speak to Arya alone.

"Do you mind?" asked Arya.

"Of course not," she said, forcing a smile.

Arya nodded and followed Eragon through the maze of tents that stood in their path. She watched as Eragon's muscled back and Arya's lean one disappear slowly, as if they were fading into the tents. Too late, she realized that she was alone.

The tents that looked so familiar to her just moments to her seemed like a forest. She looked around wildly, trying to locate the tents that looked so familiar to her. Where was the man and his wife? The couple? The children? Pivoting on the same spot, she looked all around her, locating nothing.

"I'm lost," she said weakly, her voice lost among the loud voices. "I'm lost."

She took a shaky step in the direction she came from, hoping that she could get Nasuada to find a guide or somebody that could lead her back to the tent. She walked slowly, trying to see anything that she saw before. Her legs felt weak and useless as she wandered aimlessly in the maze of tents. She always burst into tears as she saw that she had gotten to an area that looked even farther away.

"Oh, please," she whispered. "Where's Arya? Eragon?"

A sudden thought struck her.

"SKYLA!" she cried out.

Several people looked in her direction at her outburst. She tried to disappear into a group of people, and succeeded. She expanded her thoughts, so that they covered all of the Varden's camp. Life was all around her! Crawling in the dirt beneath her feet were the insects, the bold spots of life that were the humans, the smaller specks of light that were the animals. She expanded her mind even further, ignoring minds that were guarded. At last, she found the Dragon's mind—dimmer than Saphira's, but generally the same. With a giddy step, she bound towards the tent with her Dragon, her eyes closed. She heard the surprised mutters of the people that she miraculously avoided, the barking of the guard dogs, the cries of the children that parted at her feet.

She ran into the tent, where she saw her Dragon sitting contentedly on the bed, chewing at what looked like a rabbit. It stood up as if greeting her, and jumped off the bed.

"Magnificent creature," said an unfamiliar voice behind her.

She gasped and twirled around, to see a woman standing there. She rushed towards the Dragon and snatched it off the floor.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" she snapped.

"And I thought you were afraid," she said, tilting her head.

"Who ARE you?" she demanded angrily.

"Angela, you silly girl," she replied. "I'm to be trusted."

"And how do I know that?" she asked, squinting her eyes.

Just then, Arya entered the tent.

"Angela," she said calmly.

"Arya," cried Alena. "This… this lady, she knows about the Dragon! What do we do?"

"Relax," she said in a soothing tone. "She is to be trusted."

With a sigh, she dropped Skyla, who fell to the floor with a squeal.

"And you passed your test," said Arya with a smile.

"Huh? What test?" asked Alena, her eyes twisting with confusion.

"The test," said Arya, still smiling. "Eragon and I set up a test. We wanted to see if you were really hopeless. Seeing that you figured out a way to get back to your Dragon… you passed."

"So… it was all a TEST?!" she bellowed.

"Where's that fear?" asked Angela with a smirk.

"Oh, that isn't the matter anymore!" she shouted. "You intentionally left me among those people!"

"It was a test," she replied. "And you passed."

"Well, there's something to be happy about!" cried Angela. "I must be off, then. Sheep don't sing by themselves, you know!"

With a wink, she disappeared as well. Arya sat down on her bed, while Alena slunk to the floor.

"I can't believe you did that to me," she began.

"We have hope. You discovered that you could find your way through by locating Skyla's mind."

"I ran through the tents with my eyes closed," she said shyly. "Think anybody noticed?"

Arya sighed.

"We'll dispatched a girl that does the same, so that your existence does not appeal to anyone," she replied. "For now, stay inside, and try to stay hidden."

"Staying inside with nothing to do? No problem," she said confidently.

"At the moment, Eragon is busy. In an hour, he will come and take you to the battlefield."

"Another test?"

"Yes."

"That, I'm not so confident at."

"Don't worry," said Arya. "Eragon may be the most feared opponent for Galbatorix's soldiers, but I'm sure he will go easy on you. For now."

"Arya," began Alena, sitting down. "Maybe… maybe, Skyla chose me by mistake."

"Don't say that," she said sharply.

"Skyla chose a poor village girl that's afraid to go outside. I think she made a mistake," she said softly.

"And Saphira chose a poor farm boy, Eragon. Now look at the fierce and brave warrior he's become. The Dragon will change you, Alena."

"But Eragon knew the basics," she said, feeling helpless.

"What basics?"

"How to fight."

"No, he did not. He was a poor farm boy," she replied.

"So you're telling me that a simple farm boy turned into the most feared Dragon Rider?" she cried.

"Yes. Anything's possible," she replied, facing her now.

"Okay… If anything's possible, let me ask you this."

Arya nodded for her go on.

"Are you human?" she asked boldly.

"No," whispered Arya. "And neither are you."

Alena was stunned; speechless.

"Then what AM I?"


	5. Magnificent Creature

Chapter 5

"What am I?" she repeated, almost in tears.

"Calm down," said Arya calmly. "You are not human. You are a Rider."

"A human Rider."

"No. When you become a Rider, you become a Rider. If you were an elf before you became a Rider, you are no longer elf. If you were human before you became a Rider, you are no longer human."

Arya's emerald green eyes drilled into her own eyes.

"Please, allow me to rest. You have given me much to think about," she said, sighing.

"Remember, Eragon will test your swordsmanship in an hour," she said, standing up to leave.

She nodded, and watched Arya walk out the door. The moment she was out of eyeshot, she flopped down onto the bed, Skyla sitting on her chest.

"You know, maybe you did make a mistake. Maybe, you were supposed to chose somebody like Arya, and you just mistaked me for somebody else. Did you ever think that?" she asked the Dragon.

Skyla stared back at her with intelligent eyes, as if saying, "I chose YOU, Alena Lovvale."

"Great. Now I think my Dragon's talking to me!" she exclaimed, suppressing a giggle.

_I am_, echoed a voice inside her head.

She bolted upright, startled.

"What was that?!" she cried. "Come out!"

_That was me_, said the same voice.

"Who?"

_Who else? Your Dragon. I am Skyla._

"I knew Dragons could talk… but at this early age?"

_We are much more intelligent than your race, Alena._

The Dragon's mind was still slightly groggy and dim, but it was definitely intelligent.

_Well, then. Let me ask you this. Are you sure you wanted ME as your Rider? You know, there are plenty of other girls that are brave around here. Why me?_

_Because, Alena. You are destined to be my Rider. There is no mistake about that._

_Are you sure?  
_

_Positive._

Cradling the young Dragon in her arms, she dropped it in front of a plate of meat. The Dragon snapped it up quickly, the meat disappearing down her throat every second.

"What am I? Maybe you know," she asked.

"You are a Rider," answered a male voice from behind her.

"Eragon?" she asked unsurely, hiding Skyla.

"Yes, it's me. No need to hide your Dragon," he said with a chuckle.

"You," he said. "are a Rider."

"I know," she replied bluntly.

"Then why ask?" he questioned.

"Because."

"Well, there isn't much time. I'm very busy, you know. Being the only trained Rider not under Galbatorix can be quite stressful. Now, let me test your sparring skills," he said lightly.

"I've never used a sword or stick in my life," she said, her voice shrinking.

"No surprise there," he said lightly. "We'll start with a couple of basic moves."

Taking Skyla to Saphira, Eragon and Alena both walked to the sparring fields, where a small group of teenage boys were training to be warriors, along with a couple of grown men who were sparring. Their instructor was a scarred, old man with tan skin and dark hair.

"It never occurred to me that you don't have scars," she suddenly blurted out.

"I heal myself with magic."

"How?"

"You will learn."

With a swift, sudden movement, Eragon threw a stick at her. Startled, she reached out to block herself and ended up catching it.

"GUARD YOURSELF!" he bellowed, jabbing forward.

In fear of being poked by the stick, she shrunk back, barely avoiding the edge of the stick. Eragon spun around and whipped the stick towards her side. Unable to avoid the attack, she lifted her own stick, in an effort to block it instead. The force of his attack tossed her back, and she landed hard on her back. Using this as an advantange, Eragon lifted his stick high over his head and got ready to hit. Last minute, her own stick was in front of her, blocking Eragon's. However, Eragon's strength was too much for her. He pushed down effortlessly, and both sticks were under her chin, pushing down.

"Dead," he said softly.

'I…can't…breathe…" she gasped in an effort to remove the two sticks from pushing down so hard.

Eragon released and helped her get up.

"Your fear," he said. "It can be good, sometimes."

"In what way?! I panicked!" she cried.

"But you avoided many of my blows. Let's go again."

She stood up trembling, gripping the stick. With a savage cry, Eragon charged. She sidestepped the attack, getting ready to attack herself. She swung the stick at his head, and felt nothing. When she opened her eyes again, the stick was only inches from her own head. She yelped and bent backwards until her hands touched ground. She pushed herself up again and flung herself at Eragon, batting at the air.

"I'd open your eyes if I were you!" roared Eragon.

Her eyes snapped open, and she ducked just in time as the stick came flying at her head. She squatted, and seeing Eragon's leg, stuck her stick out. Eragon cried out as he went flying, tripping over her stick. He crashed into the floor, muck filling up his entire vision. He felt the blunt edge of a stick at the back of his neck.

"Dead!" she declared proudly.

"Okay," he said, getting up. "You're a lot better than I thought you were. I'll go a bit harder on you."

He stood up again and wiped the muck off his face, smiling.

"Just a little bit harder."

They stood facing each other, staring. Alena flinched, and Eragon raised his stick. He rushed forward, appearing to be only a glimmer as he struck her. Knocking the air out of her, he proceeded to twist both her arms behind her back. She dropped the stick, as Eragon pushed her to the ground, falling on top of her.

"Dead. At least try to fight, Alena. Don't just stand there."

"Again," she said, forgetting all about her fears.

"All right," he said with a laugh.

Again, they stood facing each other. This time, Alena did not wait. Screaming, she ran forward. Eragon sidestepped the attack easily, smirking as she jerked to a stop. She turned on her heels and charged again, yelling. Eragon seemed to disappear as he sped towards her, swinging at her wrist. He hit her lightly, causing her to drop her stick. She howled in pain, swooping down to grab her stick again. When she was up, she found herself face to face with Eragon. She bent backwards, performing a cartwheel before aiming at his head. She threw it with all her strength, aiming for his heart. Eragon grinned and blocked it, rushing up to her with his stick. He nudged her on the chin with it, smiling.

"Dead. Never throw your weapon."

She groaned and sat in the dirt.

"Why can't I do it?" she asked, frustrated.

"I've been training for a while. For a beginner, you're amazing."

"Can we do it one more time?" she asked weakly.

"Whatever you want."

Before she faced him, however, she formed a quick plan in her mind. It was one of the games she and the children played back in the village that they had invented. Being a master in acrobatics, she would spring on the other side of the person and stand back to back with the other person. It was a quite simple maneuveur, one she had mastered after a year of playing. Once back to back, the person would then confuse the second player with a series of acrobatic moves. The addition was, that she would be striking him while she moved.

As they stood, she charged and flipped right over him. Eragon yelped in astonishment, pivoting on his feet. She rolled underneath him, curling up into a tight ball, landing on the other side. She jabbed her stick backwards, and heard Eragon yelp. Even he was vulnerable to pain. She flipped two times, and flung her stick at him, hitting his shoulder. Rolling under him again, she swung it down low at his feet, rapping both ankles. At last, she jumped up and whipped the stick forward, knocking him to the ground. She stabbed the edge of the stick into his back, and declared proudly,

"DEAD."

She let him up, watching with satisfaction as Eragon shook himself clear of all the dirt.

"I've never seen that kind of fighting," he said slowly. "No enemy would expect that. Although, they may be able to avoid your attacks. Our enemies are incredibly quick and light on their feet."

"Exactly HOW fast? I think I moved pretty fast."

"You did. I probably could have blocked your moves, but… you caught me off-guard. But people like Murtagh and Galbatorix would easily overpower you. Their speed and strength is… incredible."

"Then I will train until my speed and strength is just as good as theirs."

"It's much more complicated than that," he said warily. "They have… unnatural powers. To vow that you will become stronger than them is like… promising that a normal dog will never die. It cannot be done naturally."

"Unnatural power? What would that be?"

"Ah… I will speak to you of it when your Dragon is fully grown."

"Which will be?"

"Dragons grow quickly."

"Dragons… they're magnificent creatures, aren't they?" she questioned, her eyes hazy.

"Yes," he said, taking a deep breath. "They are magnificent creatures."

"Eragon, what do you plan to do with me after my training is complete?"

He laughed heartily.

"Why, I plan to alter the history of Alagaësia with my very hands!" he cried, still laughing. "With YOU by my side!"

* * *

A little bit of sparring.

I really can't get onto the real action until AFTER Alena's training, so looks like this fanfic will be a big longer than I planned!

Well, hope you enjoy~

Oh, to clear things up:

She ADDED the attacking for her little game with the kids, which means that when she played with the kids, they just tumbled over each other.


	6. Lessons

Chapter 6

Alena stared down at her hands in silence, deep in thought.

"Do not be afraid, Alena. If Galbatorix or Murtagh was to learn that another Rider is on our side, why, they would tremble in fear! All we must do is train," he said comfortingly.

"My Dragon grows quickly," she said quietly.

"Yes… yes… they grow at a much quicker rate than humans do," replied Eragon, cocking his head. "Will I ever learn to ride her?"

"Of course! The moment your Dragon can support your weight, we will start with flight. Before that, however, we need to work on swordsmanship and magic. You are tired? We will start magic today," he said, picking up a stone from the ground.

He placed the smooth stone in her palm, and smiled.

"Focus on this rock, and say the word, 'Reisa'."

Cheryl focused on the small pebble on her palm and stared at it, exploring it with her mind. It was nothing more than a black lump—no life, nothing.

"Reisa!" she gasped, feeling an immediate drain of energy as the pebble wobbled into the air.

"Excellent!" cried Eragon. "I spent much longer mastering that! Looks like you are fast at magic."

She was absolutely exhausted.

"How can I perform more complex spells when I get so exhausted by this simple spell?" she asked, gasping for air.

"Your strength will increase. Now, let us work on the art of guarding one's mind."

"How?" she asked, not having the energy to say more.

"Focus on one thing. For example, a steel wall. If you focus your mind entirely on a steel wall, that is all your opponent will see in your mind. You must learn to do this without any thinking, for you cannot fight well if you are thinking too deeply about guarding your mind. Do not let other senses confuse you. The opponent will be looking for tiny slips, mistakes in the mental barrier, which they will pry open and dive in for information. Now, let's try. You come into my mind, and try to break in," he said with a smile.

"O-okay."

She expanded her mind, narrowing her focus to only Eragon. As she entered the Rider's mind, she noticed that it too, was foreign. Not like Skyla's mind, but so knowledgeable. Focusing her thoughts on breaking through his mental barrier, she enveloped herself in his mind. She saw a single eye, looking at her from above. She cried out with surprise, immediately withdrawing her mind.

"ERAGON!" she screamed.

"Sorry, sorry," he said with a laugh. "I often use that trick to scare off magicians."

"Oh, that was absolutely terrifying!" she cried, clutching her chest.

"Now, now. I'm sorry. Let's do that again."

She looked uneasily, but reached out towards his mind. Again, he entered Eragon's mind. Instead of the horrid eye that had stared at her so terrifyingly before, there was a solid brick wall. She attacked it, crashing her whole, frail body upon the hard surface. Every mental dagger she could muster, she drove repeatedly into the wall. At last, she withdrew from his mind, gasping.

"It's useless," she said, stopping to catch her breath.

"Your turn!" he cried, suddenly diving into her mind.

Bewildered, she forced herself to think of only one thing. Inside her mind, Eragon was suddenly surrounded by laughing children. They circled around him, giggling and chirping happily; not caring for the world. Their laughter was like the peals of glass bells, the clear sound bouncing all around her mind. Eragon was absolutely bewildered—never had he attacked a mind that blocked him with children.

"I give up!" he cried, withdrawing from her mind. "I could probably fight past the thoughts of children… you surprise me again!"

"Thank you," she said, smiling.

"You are not so afraid, Alena," he said, a bit more solemnly.

"Nature isn't so bad after all," she said, shrugging. "In fact, I enjoy sitting outside on a sunny day."

"It's practically impossibly for one to change so quickly!"

"Skyla changed me," she whispered. "She… told me that… nature wouldn't harm me. She told me that there was nothing to be afraid of. She said, soon, I would more powerful than nature… maybe one of the most powerful in the world."

"Not maybe one of the most powerful. You will be one of the most powerful. After Galbatorix is gone…"

She laughed.

"Of course," she said. "Now, may I rest? That little bit of magic exausts me."

*****

Skyla grew quickly. In no time, she was already half the size of Alena. Alena, Eragon was surprised to find, excelled in magic. Her fighting skills, on the other hand, were quite shabby. However, she had grown much plumper during her months with the Varden, fed richly for the fear that she would perish. She gradually improved in the art of swordsmanship, along with magic.

"Waíse heill," said Alena, her hand over a small cut.

She watched as the cut repaired itself, and smiled with satisfaction.

"You're a very good magician," said Eragon, nodding proudly. "Not to mention that your energy reserves grow each day!"

"Yes," she said proudly. "It is hard to believe that I struggled to just lift a pebble!"

"Yes, yes. I remember," he said, laughing heartily. "Soon, you will become as powerful as I am."

"I have much to learn," she said, shaking her head. "But one day, perhaps, we can spar. **Without** you pinning me to the ground every 5 seconds."

"I began sparring at an young age," he scoffed. "Looks like you will be stronger at me in magic, however."

"Perhaps," she said slowly.

"Do not ponder too long on the subject. You must concentrate on your training," advised Eragon. "Come, and spar."

Alena groaned audibly, and stood up.

"Again?" she asked weakly. "I'm tired of losing!"

"You won't be sparring with me, I'm afraid. I got another man to train with you. I don't have the time to spar these days," he said, leading her out of the tent.

"Who?" she asked. "Won't he be really good?"

"You'll have to see," he said simply.

Eragon walked with her at a fairly brisk pace, talking nonstop.

"Where's Skyla? I haven't seen her the whole day, and I'm getting worried," she said, coming to an abrupt halt.

"Ah," said Eragon. "I almost forgot to talk to you about that," he said mysteriously. "Meet me at Saphira's landing sight at midnight. Make sure nobody follows or sees you."

Confused, she cocked her head thoughtfully before nodding cheerfully. She looked towards the sparring fields before running off, leaving Eragon to his own business.

"Are you Lady Alena?" asked a polite male voice with a pronounced accent.

"I am," she said, slightly surprised.

She turned around and saw a very handsome young man with chestnut hair and caramel eyes rimmed with gold. He had a sword belted at his waist with a black sheath. He dressed grandly—a purple tunic and silver breeches with black traveling boots.

"The name's Piar Rolinsworth," he said pleasantly. "Eragon Shadeslayer requested that I taught you swordsmanship. Not many women attempt such jobs. May I ask, why you wish to learn the art of swords?"

"I have no family; no father nor brother to defend me. I wish to protect myself, without the help of others. I am no archer, nor am I a magician," she answered clearly, her voice slightly trembling. "I tried to find a teacher that was willing to teach me, but there were none. I went to Eragon, confident he could find a willing teacher."

"I see. Well, let us start! Have you ever handled a sword before?" he asked, fingering his own.

"Never before."

"Well, we will have to find you a sword," he said. "Before that, however, we must master the technique first. I will not use swords, for obvious reasons, but just normal sticks," he said.

He walked over to a rack of sticks, carved for training soldiers. He picked one out and lifted it to his eye, measuring it.

"Too long," he muttered, picking up another one and doing the same.

At last, he chose two sticks and threw them to the ground for later use. He then chose a sword from another rack and tossed it onto the ground as well.

"Let's start with unsheathing your sword quickly. During a surprise attack, you must unsheathe without thought. Wrenching it out may cause in you dropping your weapon. You can use my sword and sheath for now," he said, belting it onto her side. "Now, this may look useless, but my friend caught off his foot because he dropped his sword when unsheathing it during a surprise attack."

She grasped the hilt of the sword and pulled out, flinging it halfway across the sparring field. Piar gasped and ducked as the blade spun to the ground.

"Well, we don't want that happening, do we?" he asked with a chuckle. "Let's be glad you didn't drop it. If you did, I would have had to tackle you so that you didn't chop your foot off."

She jogged to the sword and pulled it out, amused. She stuck it back in its sheath and pulled it out again. She did it so that the sword would not get wrenched out like last time and fly half way across the field.

"Great. We'll do the most simplest of attacks, the jab. Just take out your sword, and jab forward quickly. During a real battle, your aim is for their heart or stomach. It must be quick when you move it forward. If you get it embedded deep enough, it will be hard to pull out," he said, demonstrating.

She took the sword from his hands and imitated him.

"Good, good," he said, smiling. "Next, another simple move, slashing. Move your sword from top to bottom in a quick stroke. We use these two basic moves, the jab and slash, just with many more complicated twists. In a battle, you'll notice that the actual time the sword enters the body is through a jab and slash."

She nodded and brought the sword down in a quick, slashing motion.

"Good, good," he said again. "Those two moves are very simple, and do not require much effort. However, consistency is extremely important. You must be able to do one hundred jabs and one hundred slashes at once. We will start with just ten."

He handed a sword from the ground to her and did the exercise with her.

"Easy enough for you?" he asked, stopping.

"I can do at least 20 more," she said confidently.

"All right then, let's do them."

For almost an hour they stood and jabbed and slashed at the air. At the end of this, Alena was extremely sweaty and tired.

"We didn't add any maneuvers or anything, yet that was so difficult! How can I add anything else when I can only do the basic moves?" she cried, discouraged.

Piar shook his head.

"We will increase your strength and muscles gradually," he said. "Do not be discouraged. You never did physical work for extended periods of time, therefore it is only to be expected that you cannot hold for long. To make sure that you get stronger, we will start with some exercises. Today, you are too tired for more."

Alena nodded gratefully and stood up.

"Thank you, Piar," she said.

He bowed with a flourish. "At your service, Lady Alena."

*****

Alena stumbled back to her tent, absolutely exhausted. She dropped onto her bed and closed her eyes, hoping to get some rest before dinner. Sleep came easily after an hour of repetitive use of her sore muscles.

"Alena… Alena…" said a musical voice.

"Arya?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Eragon."

She suddenly bolted up. She had forgotten about her promise!

"I'm so sorry! I totally forgot… I was just so exhausted, I…" she stammered, scrambling up.

"Hush. No matter. I'm a little bit early for the promise. Come with me," he whispered, helping her out of the bed.

"Where are we going?" she whispered in the dark.

"Somewhere extremely important."

* * *

Very boring.

Next chapter, there will be much more about the Dragon:)


End file.
